


Secret Scrap Santa at Number 12 Grimmauld Place

by Vaysh



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Down and Out Draco Malfoy, Gollum Collector's Bust, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, M/M, Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, Schrottwichteln, Secret Santa, Secret Scrap Santa, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:40:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22234213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vaysh/pseuds/Vaysh
Summary: They meet on Boxing Day, old friends, new lovers, almost strangers, in Harry's home. Viktor Krum, freshly returned from Heidelberg in Germany, brings the game.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 16
Kudos: 97
Collections: Harry/Draco Owlpost 2019





	Secret Scrap Santa at Number 12 Grimmauld Place

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xstarxchaserx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xstarxchaserx/gifts).



> Dear Hannibae | xstarxchaserx, this fic was a blast to write but only nominally fulfils your prompts and wishes. I hope you can enjoy it even when it's not really what you were asking for. There is Draco and Harry meeting in a park, in a pub, and mostly at an event. But really, I know, it's more in the spirit than in the actual words. Despite of this, do enjoy! ♥
> 
> I didn't manage to get Neville and Blaise into the fic, but I swear, they are happily celebrating the holidays in Italy.

They meet on Boxing Day, old friends, new lovers, almost strangers. The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black is now Harry Potter's house, and he has turned it into a place where everyone is welcome. He doesn't fool himself into believing that blood ideologies have come to an end. Racism is spreading like wildfire through the world, Muggle and magical alike. But he wants this house – _his house_ – to be a haven. And so this holiday season, he invites all his friends to No. 12 Grimmauld Place.

Viktor Krum, freshly returned from Heidelberg in Germany, is the one who brings the game. Ginny made noises about doing a Secret Santa, but Viktor took over and introduced them to Secret _Scrap_ Santa. Apparently, it's the latest fad in the German Wizarding World.

Already shortly after breakfast, Harry has lost all control over what's happening in his house. Millicent and Ginny stock the bar in the Library – Harry dares a quick glance and counts eight bottles of different kinds of gin. Dean and Seamus cater the food. Harry sent Kreacher to Hogwarts over the holidays – in hindsight, a strike of genius. The old house-elf would have never permitted the mess Seamus is making with the cheese balls and the salmon rolls. Harry can only hope that Kreacher will not notice Dean is using the good, gold-rimmed porcelain. 

And then there is Viktor, already an impressive guy when you meet him at the Ministry. But dressed in a blood-red Daddy Christmas cloak and full of enthusiasm for his game of Secret Santa, he is a bit more than Harry can handle. Viktor's baritone fills the house, and _this_ is more than Harry's _dick_ can handle. Yes, Harry has a thing for a dark cultured voice, combined with traditional attire and crazy recklessness. Hermione pats him on the shoulder and smiles at Viktor. She's still so in love, four years into their marriage. Harry cannot help but be horribly envious.

Viktor arrived last night with a bag of walnuts and two finely wrapped gifts. The gifts he immediately dropped into the troll-leg umbrella stand, so fast Harry hardly got a good look. Viktor moved the umbrella stand even closer to the door of No. 12 Grimmauld Place, announcing that, "This is where everybody has to put their gifts for Secret Scrap Santa. And Harry, don't you dare take a peak." Harry wouldn't think of it. The identity of the scrap gifters needs to be shrouded in utter secrecy. He totally gets it.

But he wonders: How will he ever get _his_ gift – a large, square affair he _finally_ managed to remove from the bloody wall – into the umbrella stand which is made from a huge troll but still only sized for umbrellas. And maybe wizarding hats. For the moment, he shoves his huge scrap gift behind the umbrella stand. The turquoise wrapping paper looks pretty against the dark wall. And the thing remains _quiet_ , for once.

Everybody went home to dress and get their gifts. Hermione, Viktor and Harry had a lunch consisting of cookies, left-over piglets in blankets, and a last scoop of roast potatoes. They sat the table; they brought out the glass and silver ware. Ron and Pansy Firecalled from Egypt where they're vacationing in a deluxe spa hotel. The hotel was Pansy's idea, of course, but Ron insisted on Egypt. His face in the fireplace looked happy and warm. "Bloody trouble, lighting a fire in this heat," he muttered before he vanished in the flames.

In the afternoon, when the short hours of daylight slowly come to an end, the first guests return. Harry brings Dean and Seamus into the house through the Fidelius charm. While he's at the door, he manages to somehow tuck his own gift into the umbrella stand. Viktor insisted it needed to be _in_ the stand, not leaned against the wall behind it. Hermione offered to Shrink Harry's gift, but Shrinking Charms don't work on this thing. 

He cannot help but notice the other three gifts. Two are wrapped in red paper, the other one in a piece of cloth with reindeers printed on it. One of the red ones looks a bit soggy. The reindeer one is quite small. And the second red gift is largish and round. It looks heavy. Harry has not idea what could be inside the gifts. Well, the round, heavy one could be a cauldron. _If_ he was venturing a guess. Which he isn't. 

Seamus and Dean are swiftly introduced to the _German_ way they will be doing the Secret Santa this year. Everybody already got an Owl from Viktor about bringing the most hideous, most useless, ugliest, kitschiest, most absurd gift they can find. _Do not go and buy anything. This is_ Scrap _Santa._ When Viktor gave this talk to Harry, he used the German word: only _Schrott._ It sounded endearing in Viktor's accent – darkly smooth Bulgarian.

Once Dean and Seamus are safely seated at the table in the Library, Harry takes one last peek into the umbrella stand. There's six gifts now – another round one that makes Harry briefly wonder if all their _Schrott_ will be cracked or rusty cauldrons. The gift is wrapped in simple brown paper, with splotches of colour on it. Dean, Harry thinks. The second new gift is a medium-sized box. It's beautifully wrapped in a dark green holiday wrapping paper, with golden stars on it. A red ribbon is tied around it, with a perfect bow on top.

Harry opens the heavy door of No.12 Grimmauld Place. It's freezing outside and there are icicles hanging from the trees in the small park. He steps out onto the worn steps to look around for the guest he's invited without telling anyone. 

In the afternoon twilight, the street lies in shadows. Harry's guest is nowhere to be seen. But to the right, coming out of Cruikshank Street, is Ginny's bright red coat, and Millicent's darker figure beside her. Harry waves at them as they come nearer, and brings them into the house. 

"You need to drop your Santa gifts into the umbrella stand," he says, and Ginny winks at him in a way that means _Watch your back_. 

_What?_ , he mouths, and Ginny eye-rolls at Viktor who's standing at the other end of the corridor, clearly checking whether the new-comers are adhering to the rules of the game.

"Harry!" Viktor's deep voice fills the corridor, and Harry whips around. "Yes?"

"Come. You've done enough checking out the gifts. This is a _Secret_ Santa."

Obediently Harry stomps along the corridor, smirking to himself. The green gift is Ginny's; the golden talon pattern is a dead give-away. It's smallish and somewhat bulky. Millie's gift is thin and long. It's wrapped in a paper with simple purple stripes, no hint of Yule anywhere. A broken wand, perhaps? But a wand would be an expensive gift, no matter how damaged it is. A wand can never be scrap. 

In the Library, everybody is sitting around the large table they'd brought in from the dining room. Harry cannot help the happy feeling rising inside of him. This is how he always imagined his home – full of his friends. He looks around: Hermione, Ginny, Dean, Viktor, Seamus and Millicent. Six guests, with Harry they are seven, and Luna is late, as usual. There are nine chairs set around the table, and though Hermione has given him a strange look, she has not said a word. Perhaps Harry should check again whether his guest is lost on the sidewalk between No. 11 and 13 Grimmauld Place.

At the corner to Pentonville Road is the closest Apparition Point. While Harry's guest is perfectly able to Apparate, he's still got his licence revoked by the Wizengamot. Walking up towards Pentonville Road, Harry runs into Luna. Harry has no idea why Luna's Apparated here but she happily steps out from under the copse of trees marking the Apparition Point. She's carrying a very huge, very unwieldy package, and Harry – always the gentleman – takes it and heaves it on his shoulder. It's bloody heavy, misleadingly wrapped in delicate white paper, with pink unicorns frisking all over it. Has she brought a garden sun shade, complete with its solid stone base, like the one Vernon was so proud of all those years ago? Well, at least Harry's sizeable scrap gift is no longer the largest one.

Before they enter the Ancient House of Black, Harry turns around one last time. The street is quiet and deserted. Harry closes his eyes. Perhaps his guest had second thoughts. Perhaps he will not come. But Harry was so insistent, and he seemed so pleased to be invited. Harry thinks, _Please come... now!_ , and tries to project his wish up the street, like a telepath. But when he opens his eyes, the street lies grey and still. The bloody package is pressing into Harry's thigh and neck. He sighs and steps inside. He's never been any good at Legilimency.

Together, they lift Luna's huge package into the troll-leg umbrella stand. It's full; another large gift won't fit. Perhaps an umbrella could still be shoved in between all the gifts. Harry hopes his guest will bring something small. 

They are all together now. Harry takes a seat beside the one empty chair, and while there are a few irritated glances, nobody suggests to put the chair away. The gold-rimmed porcelain and the candles make for a festive atmosphere. A large bowl of walnuts stands on the table. There are mountains of cheese balls and salmon rolls. On the sideboard Harry put an assortment of wines from the Black cellar. Ginny and Millicent cut a virtual hill of lemon slices for the gin. The fireplace crackles, the faeries on the Yule tree quietly hum carols. Harry listens one last time for the loud clanging of the doorbell. But there's only silence from the entrance hall: nobody stands outside and wants to come inside. Harry tries not to be disappointed. If his guest does not show up, he will have his reasons.

They eat, they drink, and they talk. They laugh a lot. Eventually Viktor brings forth a pair of beautiful silver dice. The dots on them are made from ebony. He clears his throat and starts explaining the rules of the _Scrap Santa_ game.

"... and if you cast a Six you may choose a gift. But only if you cast a One you can unwrap a gift and keep it. And you _must_ keep it." Viktor pulls his wand out of the wide sleeve of his Daddy Santa cloak. "We'll go for 62 minutes and 44 seconds," he says and sets a Tempus Charm. Then he leaves the table and the Library.

Ginny and Millicent are topping off everybody's glass with gin from a pretty turquoise bottle. And already Viktor returns with the troll-leg umbrella stand that must weigh a ton now, what with all the Schrott inside. Harry's gift alone easily weighs five stone. Square and obnoxious, it sticks out of the umbrella stand, with the long roundish white gift (Luna's) leaning against it. And yet Viktor carries the umbrella stand with an ease that speaks of months of Quidditch training. Harry cannot help but be impressed – again.

The table is quickly cleared off the remnants of the meal, with Harry making sure there is a plate of salmon rolls left for his maybe-late-surprise guest nobody's mentioning. Then the gifts are put on the table, all nine of them. It's a good thing the dining table is large enough to have seated the entire Black family. The heap of gifts is a mind-boggling sight. Ginny and Millicent break out another one of their bottles of gin, and the glasses around the table are being filled again. 

"A toast!" Ginny calls, giving Harry the chance to welcome them and give the same speech he gives every year. He's never been a good speaker, hasn't got the knack of it in all his (five) Auror years. But his friends indulge him. He gets to ramble about what this house means to him, how he's happy to have turned the Black inheritance into something worthwhile, something good. And this year, for the first time, he adds a bit about reaching out to new friends as well as to old enemies, and how five years after the war it's time to give everybody a second chance. There's more surprised glances around the table, only Hermione and Ginny share a knowing smile. Viktor, too, seems to be in on it, because he smiles as well. But then he announces the start of Secret – Scrap – Santa!

Fifteen minutes into the game, nobody has yet rolled a One. Not one gift has been unwrapped. The box with the pretty red bow (Seamus's) lies in front of Harry. It looks innocuous enough but Harry needs a Two, so he can exchange the red bow gift for _the one currently owned by a person of your choosing_. And he wants the small green gift (Ginny's) that Viktor got two rounds ago. 

But all the dice give Harry is a Four _(pass gift to the right)_. So he moves Seamus' box to the right where Luna accepts it with a grin bright enough to light the fireplace: she clearly wants this one. 

Round after round, Harry – currently giftless – keeps rolling the dice but doesn't get another Six. Then Millicent to the right of him rolls a Three _(pass gift to the left)_ , and she manoeuvres his own bloody gift towards him. For a moment Harry thinks he sees relief in Millie's eyes. But the light must be playing tricks on him, because Millie never ever gives an emotion away on her face. The square turquoise monstrosity lies in front of him. _Please don't let me roll a One_ , Harry thinks, and thankfully, _thankfully_ , he rolls a Five, and Luna and Millicent have to exchange their current gifts. The slightly soggy red gift (Viktor's) and the one wrapped in brown paper (Dean's) change temporary owners.

Everybody declares wildly what they think is in the gifts. Harry notes:  
1\. the extra-large, square turquoise one: "Clearly an Ouija board," says Luna.  
(So utterly, utterly wrong.)  
2\. the extra-bulky, huge white one: "A Firebolt," comes from Viktor.  
(Which is not a bad guess but Harry carried the thing. It's not a broom.)  
3\. the cloth-wrapped one, with reindeers: "Tea-light stand," Dean says with confidence.  
(He may well be right.)  
4\. the slightly soggy red one: "Petrified... slugs?" ventures Ginny with a look of fascinated horror.  
(Slugs? Seriously, Gin? Harry thinks: food. A package of broken chocs comes to his mind, dark chocolate with liquor fillings. He got such a beating from Vernon when he accidentally sat on them as a child. But food items are forbidden at Secret Scrap Santa.)  
5\. the long thin one with purple stripes: "Wand," Luna says. "Cooking spoon," says Dean.  
(Harry is going with the spoon, because a wand is never _Schrott _.)  
6\. the round one, in brown paper: "Quaffle," is Viktor's guess. The man does have a one-track mind. And it's not as if Harry is not utterly charmed by it.  
(Could be a Quaffle. Could also be a lamp.)  
7\. the round red one: "Old cauldron," Millicent says. "Cauldron," Harry agrees. Everybody else is nodding along.  
8\. the small dark green one: "Vase," says Hermione.  
(Harry suspects it's the old Holyhead Harpies badge he's seen on Ginny's desk. He wants it.)  
9\. the green one with gold stars and the red bow: "Wooden bathtub caddy," Seamus says with a grin that deceives everyone into thinking he's in the know, but tells Harry that the one thing not in the box is a bathtub caddy.__

__The dice are on the other side of the table. Harry is hoping for a Two, once they come back to him. If he rolls a Two he could snatch the small green gift from Hermione, who is lovingly cradling it in her hands._ _

__Harry turns his head a bit, to listen again for the door. He still has not given up on his guest. Then two things happen at once:_ _

__Ginny screams, "One! I got a One!"_ _

__The awful doorbell is clanging._ _

__Harry leaps from his chair and runs to the door. Ginny has the box gift with the red bow in front of her. Before Harry rushes out of the Library, to finally welcome his last guest, he sees the red bow and green paper shreds flying to the sides as Ginny rips into the gift. Out in the entrance hall, Harry hears Ginny scream, "Oh my God, oh my God! What _is_ this?" Viktor actually shrieks, there's a thud as if something heavy fell to the floor. And Seamus is laughing so loud Harry can hear him all the way to the entrance._ _

__He throws the heavy door wide open, and there is his guest: Malfoy. Draco._ _

__Malfoy looks pale, just like when they ran into each other in the park, a chance meeting three weeks ago. Apparently, the Malfoys' old townhouse is just a few streets away from Grimmauld Square. Malfoy is wearing robes that were fashionable six years ago, his hair is a bit too long, and his boots are scuffed. He's so beautiful, it takes Harry's breath away._ _

__"Draco," he says because they've decided to stop it with the last names, finally, two weeks ago, when they met in the Muggle pub over on Cruikshank Street. "I am so glad you could make it."_ _

__He must have said it right because Draco's whole face lights up. "Of course, Potter." Draco sometimes still forgets about their first-name deal, and Harry finds it utterly endearing._ _

__Draco holds out something round and small, wrapped in fine tissue paper. "Yule gift," he mutters, and a faint blush rises in his cheeks. But there's nothing to be embarrassed about. No matter how tacky or inexpensive, Harry will cherish whatever gift Draco brought him. He takes it carefully; it smells of summer and happiness._ _

__He pulls Draco into the warm house. And because they started kissing a week ago, he moves his hand to Draco's cheek and lightly brushes his mouth over Draco's lips. Draco responds, eagerly, and within seconds Harry is hard and so aroused he can barely stop himself from pushing Draco against the wall. God, he wants to lick into Draco's mouth, he wants to shove away those robes, he wants to rub his aching erection against Draco's dick that feels so thick and hot underneath all that cloth._ _

__"I think you have guests to attend to, Potter." Draco's deep voice is vibrating against Harry's chest. A sweet ache pierces his nether parts; he feels his prick leak. " _Other_ guests," Draco adds, voice dropping even lower, and Harry cannot help but press himself closer against Draco, just to feel more of him._ _

__"Will you stay the night?" he whispers against Draco's lips. He's asked before, in the pub, and is still waiting for his answer._ _

__Draco quietly laughs. "I'll stay, Harry. Of course I'll stay."_ _

__Harry takes Draco's hand and leads him through the corridor and into the Library._ _

__Pandemonium reigns inside the once Noble and Ancient room. Two more people have rolled a One; two more gifts have been unwrapped. Harry quickly checks, but no, _his_ gift, the small green one, is still unwrapped._ _

__Hermione, however, is sitting at the table with her head in her hands. Dean looks at her, than back at – what is that thing in front of him? It's lying on the cloth with the reindeers, the size of a small hand – pinkish with… teeth? It doesn't move, on first glance there's nothing magical about it._ _

__"You – you brought dentures from –" Harry stops because you're not supposed to reveal who the gifters are at Secret Santa._ _

__Hermione shrugs, and that's when Harry realises she's overcome by a silent laughing fit. "My dad… " she wipes tears from her eyes, "my dad has a whole box of artificial teeth. I thought, you know…" she takes a gasping breath, " _ugliest gift_ and all."_ _

__Dean stares wordlessly at the old ivories._ _

__Beside Harry, Draco waves at Luna. There's a cracked cauldron sitting lonely atop red paper in front of her. She waves back at Draco with a smile. Harry is not quite sure how it happened but sometime during the last five years, Luna and Draco have become friends._ _

__He is just about to introduce Draco to the crowd, when Dean says, "I'm not taken those _teeth_ home with me. No bloody way."_ _

__"You have to," Victor barks from the side where he's engaged in a _very serious_ conversation with Seamus, Ginny and Millicent. Ginny has her hand on something that looks like perhaps a bust. It is about four inches high, sitting on a pedestal made from dark plastic. This is clearly Seamus' gift; the unwrapped box is lying at the side of it._ _

__"It's a collector's item," Millie says. "From the _Lord of the Rings."__ _

__"I'm going to get some food and wine," Draco whispers at Harry's side and helps himself to the plate with the salmon rolls._ _

__"The Lord of what?" Viktor asks._ _

__Draco assesses the bottles of wine, chooses one and pours himself a glass._ _

__"It's Gollum," Seamus says loudly._ _

__"Lord Gollum?" Viktor asks. He doesn't need to raise his voice for everyone to hear him clearly._ _

__"No!" Millie, Ginny and Seamus yell, and Ginny picks up the bust and shoves the thing towards Viktor._ _

__" _This_ is Gollum," she says._ _

__Viktor instinctively takes a step back. _Gollum_ is now visible for everyone to see. It's... Okay, Gollum is not supposed to be a pretty sight. (Harry watched the extended editions of all three movies twice.) But this! This twisted, miserable, woeful upper body creature is terrifying. The few hairs on Gollum's head are painted in thick lines; it looks as if blue water is continually streaming down his face. Harry is torn between sympathy and disgust, but the longer he stares at the bust, the more it feels as if some malevolent spirit is seeping out if it._ _

__Ginny says, "Nobody should have something like this in their house." It's exactly how Harry feels. Maybe they can bury Gollum in the park._ _

__"Oh yes, they should," Millicent says firmly. "We'll be keeping it." Without as much as a flinch she takes Gollum out of Ginny's hands and turns the bust upside down (the blue lines are now streaming up Gollum's face). "Number 3811," Millie's reading off the bottom of the bust, "of 5000." She looks up. "It's a collector's bust. Limited edition. On eBay you can make a mint with it, sixty pounds at least."_ _

__Draco raises an eyebrow and takes a large gulp of the wine._ _

__Viktor takes a step forward again. He reaches for the bust but doesn't quite touch it. "Sixty _pounds_." He sounds a bit awed. Harry's pretty sure he's confusing Muggle pounds with Wizarding Galleons. The Krums, for all he knows, are loaded._ _

__"Yes," Millie says. "And Ginny rolled the One and got to unwrap it, so it's hers. Per the rules of the game. We're taking it home with us." She goes back to the table, shoves Gollum back into his box and puts him carefully into a large bag._ _

__"Everybody," Harry says, for this seems like an appropriate moment to finally introduce his guest, "I invited Draco."_ _

__Ginny lifts her eyes from the now-hidden monstrosity in the bag. "Oh, hi Malfoy," she says, grabs a new bottle of gin and pushes it towards the empty chair where Draco has not quite taken his seat. "I knew you'd come. Obviously. What was taking you so long?" She winks at Harry who hates her for making him blush._ _

__"Draco." Millicent sits a bit closer to Ginny, in a way Harry would call _protectively_ if he didn't know that Ginny doesn't need protecting. _ _

__Hermione gives Draco her brightest smile._ _

__Dean says, "Come and take a seat. We have six more gifts to unwrap. Perhaps you'll get something that I can exchange for these lovely artificial teeth?"_ _

__"No exchanging of scrap gifts, Thomas," Viktor says grimly. He walks up to Draco. "Hermione told me not to ask who the empty chair was for. Now I know." He slaps him so hard on the shoulder that Draco would have dropped his plate if not for Seamus who catches it mid-flight._ _

__"Yoi, Malfoy." Seamus takes the last salmon roll and pops it into his greedy mouth._ _

__A light blush has risen on Draco's cheeks. As he stands there, empty plate in one hand, wine class in the other, Harry loves him terribly._ _

__"Good evening," Draco says, and Harry's friends are quiet for once, so he can fully appreciate every nuance of Draco's deep, cultured voice. "My apologies for being late." He stops and for a moment it seems as if he wants to say more, but then he simply looks at Harry. "Happy Yule, everyone!"_ _

__Harry wonders how he's never noticed the sparkle of silver in Draco's eyes._ _

__"29 minutes and 35 seconds," Viktor announces. "Back at the table, everyone, we have more scrap to unwrap. Luna, your turn to roll the dice!"_ _

__And with a flourish Luna rolls a Two and snatches the small green gift, _Harry's_ small green gift, from Hermione._ _

🎄 🎄 🎄

Four hours later – after another wild half-hour of Secret Scrap Santa, four bottles of gin, and more food in form of Muggle pizzas Seamus ordered – Harry's guests are finally leaving the Ancient and Noble House of Black. They take all their gifts, with the exception of the red soggy one. It contained a set of broken Gobstones, spurting water all the time. 

Speaking of water, Draco got the gift that Harry set his eyes upon. But it wasn't Ginny's old Holyhead Harpies badge, after all.

The gift is currently located in the bathroom on the second floor of No. 12 Grimmauld Square, the largest bathroom in the house. It's floating, in all its yellow rubber glory, over Draco's pale stomach. He is lying in the big, claw-footed old tub. The room is filled with jars and jars of bluebell flames; their light shines on the white tiles. And on Draco's bright hair, Harry cannot help but notice. He's naked and hard and Draco's gaze keeps roaming over him in a way that makes Harry even harder. 

"Get in, Potter," Draco says. His voice is at once velvety and rough, and Harry couldn't resist it even if he wanted to. 

He lowers himself into the warm water and slides up the tub besides Draco. Draco's hands find their way to Harry's hips to draw him closer and move him on top. Harry moans when their dicks bump against each other. Draco's erection is so big and hard, and Harry lets himself move forward and back, just so he can rub his own dick against Draco's. They said they'll take it slow. They said they'll take their time. They said they'll stay in bed until New Years or even longer. Harry doesn't need to be fucked by Draco now, when they are having sex for the very first time. But God, does he want Draco to take him, in the water, knees on the hard floor of the tub and his arse barely out of the water.

"When I fuck you," Draco softly says, "it's going to be in bed."

Harry shudders with a groan and buries his face in Draco's neck. He smells of the orange they ate a while ago, sweet juice dripping from Draco's chin. Draco's hands find Harry's prick and Harry moves his hips, slowly, slowly, in the rhythm of Draco's strokes. The water is warm, fir-scented, swashing against the sides of the tub, and Harry's going to come, he's going to –

"'M goin' t' come," he mumbles against Draco's skin, hips moving faster, faster, pushing into Draco's grip. God, it's so good.

"Come, Harry," Draco whispers, cool breath at Harry's ear, "want you to come, come on me."

The deep voice is all Harry needs. He finds Draco's lips and bites into them, cannot help it, really, they are so pink and soft. He moves harder, faster, water sloshing everywhere, he loudly moans, "Draco, Draco," and sees, eyes wide open, the joy in Draco's eyes. It slides right through him, like a sword, like a lance: Harry comes, so hard, into Draco's hand.

Then he's floating in the water, loose-limbed and warm. Draco holds him close, whispering sweet nonsense in his hair. 

"My sweet little duck..."

Who would have thought that Malfoy knows such lovely words? Er – "What?" Harry turns around in the water and settles between Draco's thighs. His erection is pressing lightly against Harry's arse. _So good._

"That's a sweet yellow duck," Draco says, voice gone lazy and low. He points with his chin towards the other end of the tub where his gift, the rubber duck, is still doing its rounds. "And it's mine now." He smiles at the thing as if he was in love with _it_ and not Harry.

It only takes a well-placed kick, and the duck lands somewhere on the bathroom floor. "I think," says Harry and presses down his arse in a way that makes Draco groan, "it's time for us to play a game of spurting Gobstones. Right now!"

And that's what they do. For days and nights and nights and days, well into the New Year.

🎄 _the end_ 🎄

  


**Author's Note:**

>  **The Scrap Gifts:**  
>  Dean brought an old soccer ball (Viktor _almost_ got it right), Ginny the yellow rubber duck, Hermione brought artificial teeth from her father's office, Luna brought the horn of an actual Crumple-Horned Snorkack, Millicent brought a navel-fluff buster (she tried to sell it on eBay but Muggles were uninterested), Seamus brought the [Gollum collector's bust](https://ic.pics.livejournal.com/vaysh/14617262/124404/124404_original.jpg), and Viktor brought the broken Gobstones set. Harry's scrap gift was, of course, the portrait of Walburga Black he finally managed to remove from the wall. And Draco's gift to Harry was an orange.
> 
> Five invaluable lessons in [German Adventiquette](https://www.pommesbuddha.com/kultur/advent-adventure/#more-999). 🎄 
> 
> And here are the [Rules for Secret Scrap Santa](https://praxistipps.focus.de/regeln-zum-schrottwichteln-das-muessen-sie-beachten_99550) used in this fic, for those who read German.


End file.
